The Malachites Meet Kitten
by Ravena Wolfborn
Summary: The Malachite twins are just working at the club, until one Kitten Nekosawa decides she wants some whiskey and milk. What happens when some of the henchmen get seriously racist? Find out in this short one-shot! The OC in this one is courtesy of a friend. I hope you like it!


**This is a little one-shot that I thought of while just writing one day. I thought, 'The Malachite twins are so underrated by fans. I should give them the spotlight for a bit, ya know.' And here we are, with a little drabble. With the help of a friend, who's OC is in this, and may be in more little Malachite drabbles to come, I have a little story for you. I hope you enjoy it.**

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It's a slow night at Junior's club. The place barely has anybody in it, just a few stragglers and regulars that deign to drink here. The carefully maintained establishment has an ever steady beat playing for those who want to dance. The dance is entirely empty, making the pulsing sounds coming from the surrounding speakers entirely irrelevant. The DJ, with his funny oversized teddy bear head on, is utterly bored, as is the rest of the staff.

I turn to Melanie to see her filing her nails in the corner. I sigh deeply, knowing that we'll have a slow night to contend with. "Mel, what are we supposed to do for the night, anyways? Just sit here and be bored?"

"Miltia, Miltia, Miltia. Why aren't you as happy as I am that Junior isn't breathing down our necks?" Melanie continues to file her nails, making certain to get every hangnail or imperfection.

I scoff at her. "He only breathes down your neck because you don't know how to take orders. If you just did as you're told, he'd leave you alone." I sit beside her slowly, intent on not breaking my heels.

She looks at me in disbelief. "How can you even expect me to listen to that… that…" Her disgust is so profound that I giggle under my breath.

"That vile cretin of a man who thinks he's one of the gods?" I supply her usual description of Junior for her, still laughing.

"Exactly!" Her hands fly into the air, seeming to forget that she had an emory board in her hand. It goes flying across the room and lands in some poor, drunk man's vodka. We duck our heads before he can see us and giggle to ourselves.

I sit up slowly, making sure the man is faced away from us. He takes the emory board out of his drink, shrugs, and downs the shot in one gulp. I twist my face in disgust. "That's nasty, Mel. Did you see that?"

Melanie sits up and pulls another file out of thin air. "Huh? I wasn't paying attention."

"Nevermind, Mel. Nevermind." I shake my head and smile at her little bit of ditziness. She can be such a blonde for have such long, dark hair.

Just then, a loud crash sounds from the front of the club. Standing in the newly busted doorway is a girl our age, roughly five-foot-two, wearing some sweatpants and converses with a white tank top and a nice brown leather jacket. Her short, dirty blonde hair emphasizes the perfect cat ears of the same color atop her head. A necklace of black rope prominently displays three sharp pieces of bone, evenly spaced apart. Atop her head, right in front of her ears, is a pair of bronze aviator goggles. Strapped to her back is an old fashioned looking Arthurian, thin bladed sword. She stands there with a seemingly genuine smile on her lips, like she hadn't just busted through a thousand Lien worth of property.

She walks down the stairs like she owns the place, strutting and swinging her arms to and fro as if she has no care in the world. "Garcon! A shot of whiskey and a glass of your finest milk!" She points her finger in the air before sitting down at the bar.

Junior comes up to her with her glass of milk but hesitates to give her whiskey. "How old are you, anyway?"

She shrugs. "Old enough, Junior. So just give me the whiskey so we can both be on our way, 'k?" She never raises her voice or gives up her cheery disposition.

Drawn by her infectious and outgoing personality, I find myself sitting beside her. "Do it, Junior. She's a paying customer, right? I never saw you turn someone away because of their age before. Why start now?"

Melanie sits on her other side of the newcomer, still filing her fucking nails. "Yes, Junior. Do it."

The cat Faunus grins ear to ear. "Listen to these beautiful girls you've got here. Give me the whiskey, and I'll be on my way."

Junior narrows his eyes at the girl. "I don't take orders from anybody, kid. Now, take your milk, and like it." He grunts and turns around to clean some of the bottles that line the huge shelves behind the bar.

Right then, a couple of Hei's horrid henchmen walk by, whispering to one another. Kitten's smile suddenly went south as a slight frown pulls her lips downward. I catch the end of their conversation by straining my ear trying to listen. "... that freak in here. We don't need more animals stinking up this place. It's bad enough we have to work with that Torchwick guy."

I frown as well. I have nothing against the Faunus. They've never wronged me or my sister, so I give them no mind. I stand sharply, my sister not far behind. Walking up to these racist bastards, I full one around by their elbow. "Apologize."

The Faunus comes up behind me and touches my shoulder. "They're not worth it. I don't want an apology from them." Suddenly, her cheery disposition is back, and she walks back to the bar.

I look at the man when he begins to speak. "You heard the freak. I don't have to apologize. Now, let me go." He bares his teeth at me, trying to intimidate me.

I let the bastard go. "Fine."

Melanie, in her usual sass, walks past the guy, but just has to have the last word. "You're lucky I'm not beating your ass right now."

The man's eyes flare with anger. "Who do you think you're talkin' to, you bitch?" He pulls his red sword from his hip and points it at her.

"An idiot, obviously." She flips her hair then crosses her arms over her chest.

I walk up to stand beside her. "Nobody calls my sister a bitch except me."

Melanie looks at me. "Hey!"

I wave in a dismissive gesture. "You know it's true, Mel."

She motions at the guy. "So? Did you have to actually say it in front of people?"

"My bad, Mel."

The guy stomps his foot, looking like a toddler about to have a tantrum. "Hello! I'm right here." He waves his sword at us.

I scoff at his mediocre attempt at intimidation. "And?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

He growls, aggravated. He takes a swing at us, but we easily duck and move to each side of him. I link my mind with Melanie's, making certain that we're in sync with each other's movements. My red and black claws come down on his chest as Mel's bladed heels strike his lower back. The force of the blows send his careening back fist onto the floor, bleeding profusely. I look down at him with a smirk. "And you thought you were someone important."

Melanie pipes up on the other side of him. "Poor baby."

We turn to walk away from the fiasco he started. Suddenly, we're surrounded on all sides by Junior's henchmen. Junior breaks through the crowd and stand in front of us. His towering figure is a bit imposing, but I know that he's not as tough as he likes to play. "You've just seriously maimed one of my men. What were you thinking!?"

Melanie flicks her fingers at him. "What's it to you?"

His face gets red with anger. "What's it to me? This is my place. You are under me. They are under me." He points to us then them respectively. "You are supposed to obey me and do nothing unless I tell you to." He gets more and more angry the farther he gets into his inane rant.

Melanie stiffens at this, and I can tell that a fight's coming, even without our link. "You, we obey you? Absolutely, no questions asked?" Her expression changes from disbelief to one of barely hidden fury.

Junior crosses his arms, thinking that he won. He does an about face and motions for the lackies to disperse. "Well, at least you've learned." He points his thumb over his shoulder at the dead man on the dance floor. "Now clean that up, or you're fired."

I try to grab Melanie's arm before she lunges at him, but I'm not fast enough. She launches her foot in an overhead arc, heel blade facing Junior's shoulder. The blade connects with flesh, ripping through his vest and shirt. Blood streams from his wound, staining his clothes immensely. The realization that he has just been attacked kicks in his reflexive combat instincts. The next kick that Mel goes for is caught in a strong grip.

I gasp and run in to assist my sister. "Mel, no!" I slash at his arm, forcing him to loosen his grip. As soon as Mel is free, I reestablish our psychic link. Junior snaps his fingers, making the lackies around him come at us. I sigh. Through the link, I think to Melanie. ' _This is how we die? Really!?'_

I hear her scoff as we attack the men around us in tandem. I flip over two in front of me, slashing at their jugulars. They go down, clutching their necks before falling completely limp. This club is filled with about fifty of these guys, all with at least some combat training, though not as extensive as us. Melanie and I switch places in a flash, ducking and weaving around each other with no problem.I take on five, spinning in a circle on my heels, cutting each of them in different places. While they hold their newly inflicted wounds, I finish them. An overwhelming wave of men start to run at us. I panic, letting the link slip accidentally. Melanie falters without out connection and gets thrown. My mind is screaming for me to reestablish our link, but I can't concentrate.

A fireball erupts in the center of the men, causing them to go flying. Standing off to the side, that newcomer has her blade extended, coated in flames. In one hand, she flips a fireball in the air and catches it deftly again and again. "Don't you guys have something better to do than pick on a couple of girls?" She gives a confident grin and winds up to throw another ball of fire. This one explodes midair, causing all of them men to hit the deck.

Junior runs to the counter and pulls out his bazooka. "Alright, you bitch. Do you want a piece of me?"

She scoffs. "Not really. I mean, who would?" She moves to stand in front of us, like she wants to protect us. My confusion barely has time to form on my face before Junior sends a rocket right toward her. In mid air, though, it detonates, sending shrapnel straight for us. I brace myself for the impact, but nothing falls. The girl's sword had turned into a flaming boomerang, knocking all of the metal away from us.

Junior shies away from the girl in fear. His earlier confidence wains, causing him to scramble behind the counter. Before he hides like the pathetic little bastard he is, he peeks over the counter at us. "You're fired, if it wasn't obvious." With that, he hides completely.

I stand up and brush off my red, strapless dress. I put my hand to my left ear to make sure that my feathers weren't displaced. Satisfied with my appearance, I move to help Mel up. I turn to see the new girl assisting my sister. I smile and walk up to her. "Thanks for the assist." I cross my arms over my chest, and Mel subconsciously mimics my action.

The girl smiles at us. "No problem. You defended me even when you didn't have to. It was the least I could do." Her smile gets wider. "And the name's Kitten, Kitten Nekosawa."

I nod my head at her. "My name's Miltiades Malachite, and this is my sister, Melanie."

Melanie inspects her nails, barely acknowledging our new friend. "Pleasure." I elbow her in the side softly. She looks at me, startled. "What?"

I sigh. "Nothing, Mel. Nothing." I shake my head and turn my attention back to Kitten to see her laughing at us.

Her smile widens, and we all turn to leave the club, maneuvering around the carnage we happened to cause. As we reach the door, she looks over her shoulder and laughs again. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." I look to the sky after leaving the worst job I've ever had behind and think that she couldn't be more right.


End file.
